


No Matter How They Toss The Dice

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon Compliant, Cheating, Christmas, Established Relationship, F/M, Flash Fic, Friends to Lovers, Karaoke, On The Ark, Pining, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here is where I will post anything that I write for bellarkefanfiction's monthly flash fic contest. Obviously I will wait until the voting is over until I post each month.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feels Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February  
> Prompt - Hands

It’s a perfect vantage point from the bedroom window to watch as Finn rides away in the carriage, the dark mahogany contrasting starkly against the white snow on the street below. He’s almost completely out of sight when Clarke catches sight of a man across the road, leaning casually against a birch, looking up at her with intense dark eyes. He isn’t really dressed appropriately for the weather, his coat his threadbare and he goes without hat or gloves. He has flakes of snow in his dark curls and she wonders how long he’s been standing there.

She moves away from the window eventually, once she’s sure Finn is truly gone. Downstairs, she makes her way to the front door and opens it a fraction. The man has crossed the street now and is standing at her front gate.

“You look cold,” she calls to him. “Why don’t you come inside and warm yourself by the fire?” The man nods, striding towards her purposefully. She opens the door just enough for him to slide inside, brushing up against her as he does so. She shuts the door behind him and it’s only a second later that his hands are around her waist and his lips are on hers.

“Bellamy,” she moans into his mouth, her arms sliding around his neck. “God, your hands are freezing,” she complains.

“You can warm them with your thighs,” Bellamy tells her wickedly, trying to pull the skirts of her dress up so he can get his hands underneath. “Besides, it was your idea for me to dress as a beggar.”

“You know I had to,” she tells him. His lips are on her neck and his hand has found its way between her legs. “If Finn finds out-,” she pants.

“Don’t say his name,” Bellamy growls.

“If my husband finds out,” she corrects herself. “Oh,” she whines as his fingers caress her beneath her skirts.

“He won’t, Clarke,” Bellamy promises her. “He won’t.”


	2. I'd Do It All the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March (entry 1)  
> Prompt - Dreams

One second he’s crashing through the forest, desperate to find her. He’s been through this before, but somehow it’s different now because he’s finally figured out what she means to him. He catches a glimpse of her through the trees and his heart stops because he’s so _close._

But then she’s gone. Or rather, _he’s_ gone, because he wakes up, sitting bolt upright, sweating profusely, his heart pounding and he can’t figure out where he is. Definitely not in the forest.

_You’re home, Bellamy,_ he tells himself. _On the Ark. It was just a dream._

He glances over at his mother’s bed but only Octavia is there, her sleeping form a calming reassurance that he’s okay, that it’s all in his head.

It’s the same dream he’s had every night for the past week. It’s so vivid he could swear it’s a memory and not a dream, and he can remember every heart wrenching detail of it.

He never met Clarke Griffin, though he knows exactly who she is. So he doesn’t understand why he’s dreaming about her every night, in a context that doesn’t even make _sense._ He’s never met her, but he feels like he knows her. Or that he _wants_ to know her, though if his dreams are real he knows nothing good can come of it.

Bellamy glances at Octavia again, to make sure she’s still asleep, before he reaches under his bed to pull out the mask he’s managed to scrounge.

It starts with this, he knows. He knows with absolute certainty that if he gives Octavia this mask, everything he’s dreamt about will come to pass. And with Clarke on his mind, he knows with absolute certainty that he’ll do it anyway.


	3. I Can't Have You, But I Have Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March (entry 2)  
> Prompt - Dreams

  1. She wants to wake up next to him. She wants to have him in her bed, wants him to be the first thing she sees every morning, and then she wants to kiss him awake and have lazy morning sex before they make breakfast together, and when they head to work the minutes tick by so slowly because all she can think about is seeing him again.
  2. She wants to get a cat with him. And a dog or two. A house somewhere in the suburbs with a nice backyard for their dogs and their kids. She wants to host Christmas dinner with him, with Octavia and Lincoln and all their kids running around, playing with their new toys while the adults watch them from the porch, and Clarke is wrapped in her husband’s arms, comfortable and happy.
  3. She wants to grow old with him. She knew this before she even knew any of the rest. She wants to sit beside him in their rocking chairs and reminisce about the old days, repeating their favourite stories to each other, to their grandkids. Then, when the time comes, they can leave this world together too, because what’s the point if they don’t have each other?



She doesn’t tell him any of this, of course. That he’s in her head, underneath her skin. Sometimes late at night she imagines she can tell him. Or she imagines he can see right through her, read her mind. That he feels the same and he’ll call off the wedding. But it’s been years since they’ve known each other like that, and he’s not hers to tell anymore. So she smiles at him as he takes the dance floor with his new wife and she’s relieved he believes it.


	4. We're the Ones Who Flirt With Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April  
> Prompt: Revolution

“We won’t get caught,” Clarke tells him.

“I know,” Bellamy replies, throwing the garbage bag of rotten fruit over the fence. He resignedly climbs over himself, following Clarke into her neighbour’s yard.

“Having second thoughts?” she teases. “Pike deserves it. He told Jasper he was a worthless bum.”

“Yeah, he deserves it,” Bellamy agrees. Clarke grabs the garbage bag, swinging it over her shoulder, the putrid stench teasing Bellamy’s nostrils. Clarke smirks, a wicked glint in her eye. They’re probably too old for this. But then Clarke grabs Bellamy’s hand, pulling him towards Pike’s pool and he forgets. The water is eerily still in the moonlight.

“We should take advantage of this pool before we dump a heap of rotten fruit in it,” Bellamy grins, cannonballing ungracefully into the pool. He surfaces, flicking his sopping curls from his eyes. Clarke looks at him exasperatedly.

“Now we’re definitely going to get caught,” she laughs, before splashing in after him. She pops to the surface an inch from his face. He desperately wants to kiss her, but the back light comes on, making them jump apart.

“Crap,” Clarke swears, hastily scrambling out of the water. They dump the fruit, clamber over the fence and drop to the ground into Clarke’s yard, their blood pumping with adrenalin, though it’s silent next door. Clarke bursts into a fit of giggles, and Bellamy is grinning widely as well.

“Jaha’s been pissing me off lately,” he muses. “We should do him next.”

“You have a death wish,” Clarke whispers affectionately.

Bellamy rolls onto his side to look down at her, his heart pounding in his throat. Her smile drops and he hears her breath hitch when he brushes her damp hair from her face.

“I’m feeling invincible,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss her.


	5. The World Can Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September  
> Prompt - Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like this one

“Let’s just stay home,” Clarke groans as Bellamy rolls out of bed, the only positive of which being that she gets a good view of his ass before he pulls a pair of pants on.

“We said we’d make an appearance,” Bellamy chuckles, leaning over to kiss her. “Plus, we’ve already fucked six times today,” he reminds her. “Any more would just be sinful.”

“Since when are you so virtuous?” Clarke murmurs, deepening the kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth leisurely as he lets out a groan.

“Maybe we can be a little late,” he concedes.

“Let’s continue this in the shower,” Clarke suggests as a compromise.

By the time they get out they both have countless mixed calls and texts from their friends asking where they are.

“Just say we’re nearly there,” Clarke says, and Bellamy laughs, shaking his head at her state of undress, but he sends the text anyway. “I still think we should stay home,” Clarke complains as she slips her dress on.

“I promise we’ll only stay for an hour max. Then we can come straight back and do whatever you want,” Bellamy grins, zipping up her dress.

“Good,” Clarke kisses him. “Which shoes?”

“We’re going to be so late,” Bellamy groans light-heartedly. “The party will be over by the time we even get there.”

“But at least we’ll look amazing. Anyway, I don’t care about any of them. I’m only going so they can see us together and feel jealous while they try to figure out who they’re going to go home with tonight.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but Clarke doesn’t miss his stupidly chuffed expression as he exits the room.

They’re late, of course, by three hours. But when she’s with Bellamy she always kind of feels like she’s right on time.


	6. We'll Never Be Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October  
> Prompt - Freedom

Clarke is sure she has something important to talk to Bellamy about when she finds him on duty in the watchtower.

She kind of forgets once she’s up there though, when she sees Bellamy leaning against the railing with his eyes closed, the trees stretching out on one side, the lake on the other.

“Hey,” she says, leaning against the railing beside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching?”

The truth is there isn’t much need for a lookout anymore, but Bellamy says he likes doing it. Clarke can’t help but feel maybe he’s watching for someone in particular.

“I was sensing,” he says, and Clarke almost smiles. There’s a long silence before Bellamy speaks again. “Up here is the closest I get to being at peace,” he sighs. “Sometimes I let myself believe I could just walk away from all this. Be free. You know, like…” he trails off, but Clarke knows he’s thinking about Octavia.

“Bellamy,” Clarke says firmly. “Listen. She’s being selfish, you know that. You could never do that to your people,” _the way I did,_ is left unsaid, sticks in her throat. “And anyway, that’s not freedom. Maybe she can go wherever she wants, maybe she’s got nothing left to lose. But she’s never going to escape the things she’s done,” Clarke stresses, willing Bellamy to believe her. “Trust me,” she says, more softly, regretfully. Bellamy slips his hand into hers, and it’s better than any words he could have spoken. The gentle squeeze is a reminder: _you’re forgiven._

“So we’ll never truly be free?”

“You and me?” Clarke shakes her head. She thinks about the things she’d have to give up, and she finds that she doesn’t even really _want_ to be free, not if it means being without Bellamy. “Freedom’s overrated.”


	7. Chistmas Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December  
> Prompt - Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the winner of this month's flashfic contest!  
> Thanks to everyone who voted!

****Clarke is used to the peak hour rush on the subway home after work. She doesn’t even grunt when she’s crushed against the cold window as more people manage to squash into the train. At least it’s winter and there’s no skin on skin contact, though she’s pretty sure someone’s umbrella is poking into her leg. But she’s got her headphones in, music up loud, content with the fact that there are only three more stops until hers.

She glances out the window at the door where people are still trying to get on. There’s a guy looking particularly exasperated, holding an oversized package, wrapped mint coloured wrapping paper with Santa Claus on it. It’s pretty obvious he’s not going to fit himself _and_ the package on the train and from the expression on his face, he seems to know it.

He glances towards her, as if he can feel her watching. He’s handsome, even with the murderous expression on his face. He’s got deep brown eyes and full lips, and dark curls poke out from under his beanie. She grins at him and he narrows his eyes at her. She does feel a little sympathy for him, it’s almost Christmas after all, and he obviously has somewhere to be.

He watches her as she breathes on the window, her breath fogging up the glass. She then slips her hand out of her glove with what little room she has to move her elbow and draws a smiley face. He rolls his eyes, but she swears she sees a smirk at the edges of his lips as he shakes his head.

The doors close then, and the train starts moving. Clarke waves as her window passes the stranger and grins in delight when he gives her a small wave back.


	8. Rich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2017  
> Prompt -Hero

Bellamy would be happy if he never heard the word _hero_ again. That's what they're calling him. Everyone in the kingdom. Apparently that's the title you get when you supposedly rescue a princess from a tower guarded by seven levels of obstacles, the last one being a fire-breathing dragon. If only they knew the truth.

Clarke seems to think it's hilarious, if the way she keeps snickering through his medal ceremony is anything to go by. At least one of them is gaining something from this whole charade.

_That's not true,_ Bellamy reminds himself. _Clarke promised if you helped her you'd be rich beyond your wildest dreams_. He's looking forward to that part.

"For services to the country above and beyond your station, Her Majesty Queen Abigail Griffin bestows this medal of honour upon you," booms the Queen's hand, and the Queen steps forward to pin the medal to his chest.

"Thank you for rescuing my daughter," Queen Abigail smiles and Bellamy glances at Clarke over her mother's shoulder to see her looking thoroughly amused. Because Bellamy hadn't _actually_ rescued her, of course. She escaped herself, and found him on her way back.

According to Clarke, she needed everyone to think she'd been rescued or else they'd just put her back in the tower. Some strange Arkadian tradition that Bellamy knows nothing about, having only moved to the country a year ago.

"And now we have a wedding to arrange," the Queen says, beaming at him. Bellamy does a double take.

"A wedding?"

"Your reward for rescuing Clarke," the Queen says, as if she's reminding him, and not as though he's hearing this for the first time. Bellamy glances at Clarke again, his jaw hanging open. Clarke is smiling at him a little sheepishly.

"I told you you'd be rich."


	9. Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 2017  
> Prompt - Hero

Karaoke is not really Clarke's Thing. She has a lot of Things. Painting. Murder mysteries. Falling for the wrong person. Karaoke is not among them.

Yet somehow someone, namely Raven (and maybe those two shots of tequila), has convinced her it's a good idea to get on stage and embarrass herself in front of everyone.

They'd only come out so Clarke could drown her feelings, feelings she's only just begun to acknowledge. Feelings that made her throat kind of close up when she found out her best friend was going on a date that night.

So she's in love with Bellamy Blake, big deal. She was bound to fall for the wrong person again. It's what she does.

Except apparently it's a bigger deal than she'd originally thought because now she's drunk and about to sing karaoke, which is _not_ something she would do if she were completely in her right mind.

The first bars of Holding Out for a Hero play, and Clarke groans. Raven picked the song. Clarke glares at her friend, sitting at a table right in front of the stage, and Raven grins.  

" _Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods_?" Clarke sings, hating herself intensely. But she's drunk enough that she's lost her inhibitions, and maybe she's yelling more than singing but she's really giving it everything she's got. The other bar patrons seem to be enjoying it. At her expense, probably, but whatever. Hungover Clarke can deal with that embarrassment in the morning.

The song ends, and she opens her eyes, her gaze just happening to fall on the entrance of the karaoke bar, where one Bellamy Blake walks in at just that moment. They make eye contact and he smiles, and Clarke's stomach lurches.

She is so screwed.


End file.
